


Grounding

by CerealMonster



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-14
Updated: 2016-05-14
Packaged: 2018-06-08 07:21:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6844690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CerealMonster/pseuds/CerealMonster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Doc returned from the void, but that didn't mean everything had gone back to normal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grounding

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure if the use of the PTSD tag was accurate here? But I put it in just in case.  
> I wrote this in like two hours after the idea floated around in my head all day.
> 
> [[Also on Tumblr]](http://cerealmonster15.tumblr.com/post/144325854692/grounding)

Doc and Donut lay together on the cot in Donut’s quarters, snuggled close together. Doc’s head rested upon Donut’s chest, listening to his boyfriend’s heart beat softly. The slow, steady-paced sound in combination with Donut’s fingers gently running through Doc’s hair put the medic’s mind at ease. 

“...I’m really glad you’re back with us,” Donut mumbled into Doc’s ear.

Doc shifted slightly, moving closer into Donut’s embrace. “Really?”

“Of course, silly! You’re my best friend. Everything is better with you around.”

A smile formed on Doc’s face as he fell asleep in his boyfriend’s arms.

***

A gentle knock on the door roused Donut from sleep the next morning.

“Hey, Donut? Doc?” Came Wash’s hushed call from the now open doorway. His eyes fell on the sleeping medic and half-awake man next to him. “How’s he doing?” He asked, nodding to Doc.

Donut rolled over in bed to face the doorway, torso still wrapped securely in Doc’s arms. “Oh, hey Wash,” he replied with a gentle smile. “We both got through the night nice and smooth, thanks!”

A smile ghosted on the ex-Freelancer’s lips as he gave a curt nod. “Well, if either of you want to get any breakfast, the mess hall is about to open for the morning in a few minutes. I suggest you head over there if you want to get anything before Grif has a chance to... make his rounds.” With that, Wash gave Donut a wave and turned to leave.

“Thanks, Wash!” Donut called softly after him. Once Wash had made his way back down the hall, Donut turned slightly to give Doc a gentle kiss on the top of his head. “Hey, Doc, I’m gonna go grab us something to eat from the mess hall, okay?” He shifted to leave the bed, but Doc’s grip around his waist did not relax.

A noise of protest came from Doc as Donut attempted to wiggle free.

Donut laughed quietly as his hands found Doc’s. “C’mon, Doc, I need to get us something to eat.” He tried again to pull off one of Doc’s arms, but the grip only tightened. He continued shifting for a few seconds longer, each movement countered by more insistent pulling and mumbles of protest, until Doc spoke, voice barely audible and mumbled into Donut’s back.

“...Please don’t leave me.”

Donut froze.

Doc continued shifting. 

No, not shifting, grabbing. Doc’s hands were grasping Donut’s shirt, a sense of urgency in every movement the rest of his body made. 

Donut rolled back over to face his lover, a soft gasp escaping his lips when he noticed Doc was gently trembling against him.

“Please,” he whispered again, voice hoarse, “please don’t- don’t go- don’t leave me here alone-”

Donut’s eyes widened as he brought his arms around Doc’s shoulders, pulling him close to his chest. “Shh,” he whispered, rubbing soothing circles into the shaking man’s back, “hey- hey, Frank, it’s okay. You’re okay-”

“-don’t want to be alone again-”

“You’re not alone. I’m here, Frank, I’m here, and you’re safe with me. We’re in bed, and we’re at the New Republic’s Headquarters, it’s okay, Frank.” 

“It was so dark... I was so alone- I don’t want to be alone again... Please don’t leave me Frankie-”

Donut could feel his heart breaking, both out of sympathy for Doc, and guilt for  having not noticed the previous, long absence of the man he loved. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here with you and it’s going to be okay. I won’t leave your side.”

The two sat in silence for a few minutes, Doc’s trembling and tight grip gradually relaxing as Donut held him close.

“I won’t leave you, Doc,” Donut whispered again.

“...Do you promise?” Doc asked after a few shaky breaths.

Donut took Doc’s face in his hands, gently guiding his chin up so he could look Doc in the eyes. “I promise.”

***

Grif and Simmons found themselves picking up Donut’s shift at the Armory that day, and all snarky complaints were swiftly cut off with a sharp look from Agent Washington.

Agent Washington, who was seen sneaking out of the mess hall that morning with two extra plates of food.

No one felt the need to question him.

**Author's Note:**

> I realized after I started outlining the story that I ended up basing the anxiety attack after a particular nasty one I had myself. Regardless, I hope I dealt with the scenario appropriately? It's a sensitive situation, so I'm of course a little nervous to be stepping out of my comfort-fluff-zone.


End file.
